The Road to Friendship
by shen summoner
Summary: Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy aren't compatible. Sure, they're both smart, saucy, and snarky, but those aren't grounds for a friendship...right? In the unlikely event that they were to become friends, it could never blossom into anything more...right? In this wonderfully delicious turn of events, our leads discover that the road to friendship often leads to...love? Nah. Or...
1. Chapter 1

THE ROAD TO FRIENDSHIP

I

* * *

Hermione Granger had always thought of herself as a sophisticated, headstrong woman, who had no qualms about being right all the time, and who certainly harboured no inhibitions about pointing out the former to people who claimed otherwise. However, she was infamous for someone whose patience wore too thin too soon, and constantly pointing out her correctness to ignorant morons was one such activity that aided in the thinning down of said patience.

Which is why she probably should have decided against accepting Draco Malfoy's offer to buy her a drink.

Then again, she was almost broke, and declining free drinks from a childhood nemesis wasn't exactly in her best financial interests.

Thus, she sat by him at the quaint little Muggle club's quaint little bar, swaying closer to him than sober-Hermione would've liked.

'Muggle music is kinda bad,' he screamed, and she almost didn't hear him.

'Are you freakin' kidding? Even the worst Muggle musicians sound better than the Weird Sisters.'

He took offense at that, and she smirked. She'd seen him mouthing the lyrics to all of their songs whenever they performed in school.

'You're provoking me,' he said, then, and she raised her arms in an exaggerated shrug.

'You witch,' he guffawed, downing the rest of his drink.

'Why, yes, I do believe I am.'

'Wanna get out of here?'

She deliberated for a long while, and he drummed his fingers on his knee impatiently.

'Eh, sure.'

-X-X-X-

'Oh, shit, that's hot, yeah,' he breathed out, as she straddled him on his couch, pressing herself against him, planting open-mouthed kisses against his bare chest.

He unzipped her dress and shrugged it off her frame, letting it pool around her waist as she bent her head lower to lick at his pectorals, causing him to actually grunt, and then chuckle thereafter at the guttural sound.

He worked his hands around her and found the strap holding her dainty black bra together, and entered into competition with it. He'd never liked bras. They refused to come off.

'Oye, Granger, little help here?'

He squeezed at the hook a lot harder this time, and sighed in satisfaction as it popped open, but then halted as he felt a line of sticky liquid drip down his chest.

'Ew, what – Granger? Oh, for fuck's sake, are you asleep? And drooling? God, what a disaster, why do these idiot girls drink more than they can handle – a million girls would die to kiss me, and this one's sleeping through it. Fan-fucking-tastic.'

-X-X-X-

A/N - hehe, super short, I know, but I've a feeling I'm gonna have a lot of fun writing this, haha. ALSO IMPORTANT - VOLDEMORT NEVER CAME BACK IN THIS FLUFFY, SEXY VERSION OF THINGS, AND THERE WAS NEVER A SECOND WAR. Yay.

Please leave me a review, please do. :* :* :*


	2. Chapter 2

The Road to Friendship

II

* * *

 _One month later_

'That's the thing with such uptight, bourgeois mentality. You can't ever savour the finer things in life.'

'Well, excuse me for not wanting to eat fugu, Your Highness,' Hermione bit back, polishing off the wine in her glass. 'I've never quite had a taste for deadly fish.'

'So you go ahead and order chicken? I have to say, I'm unimpressed.'

'Oh, save it, Malfoy,' she snapped. 'Not all of us have the riches to afford an assorted platter of the most dangerous pufferfish in the whole world. And not all of us are suicidal like you.'

He snorted.

'Suicidal? I'll have you know that this restaurant first opened doors before even your parents were born, Granger, and the chefs here have been trained by the finest in the world. There's no risk.'

'Oh, there's ALWAYS a risk,' she grimaced, eyeing his plate with a sort of frightened disdain. 'Please, are you actually going to eat that?'

'Watch me,' he smirked, twisting the thin strip with his fork and raising it to his lips. 'Unless…you want to have a try first?'

'No!' she said, vehemently, and loud enough to attract attention from the patrons of the pretentious place sitting at the tables next to them. 'I mean,' she said, lowering her voice, and shooting the others apologetic glances, 'I'm not dressed to die.'

'Not dressed to die?' he snorted, setting his uneaten morsel down. 'What in heaven's name is _that_ supposed to mean?'

'For Merlin's sake, look at the place,' she huffed, toying with the hem of her sensible work shirt. 'The women are all wearing fancy dresses, and you're wearing a suit! I have slacks and trainers on, for crying out loud!'

'Your point being?' he asked, irritated.

'My point being,' she cut in with emphasis, 'that everyone here is dressed to the nines, and they stared at me when I walked in, and they would've stared at me even if I'd come in wearing fancier clothes! They know I can't afford this place. Why, if I'd not been with you, I doubt I'd have even been allowed entrance!'

'Really?' he said, pursing his lips, running a finger over the rim of his glass noisily. 'Well, in that case, something needs to be done about it.'

'Done about it? I don't care, to be honest, but I'm up for a new job, and it's kinda important that I get it. I don't want my picture in the Prophet saying "Under-dressed Muggle-Born caught dying at Posh Restaurant due to Lethal Fish Consumption," okay?'

He laughed at that, and she was taken aback, because she'd seen him smirk, chuckle, and smile, but never laugh.

'That's nice,' she said without thinking, tucking in a wayward strand of her impossible locks behind her ear.

'What is?' he asked, distracted.

'Um, I mean, you should laugh more often,' she replied, tugging at her collar.

He didn't say anything in response to that, just stared right back at her in a way that had her feeling more uncomfortable than ever.

'That's it,' he finally said, and got up from his chair.

'What?' she asked dumbfounded.

He said nothing, just fixed his eyes on her once again, in a way that made her want to implode with self-consciousness and slide under the table away from his prying eyes at the same time.

She did, however, grow beetroot red when he started unbuttoning his waistcoat.

'What are you doing?' she hissed, fanning herself with the folded napkin on the table. 'Draco!'

'Proving a point,' he shrugged, and casually placed his waistcoat on the back of his chair.

'Point?' she whispered, covering the side of her face with her hand as the people around them started noticing that something was amiss.

'The point being that when you've traveled the world like I have, you'll come to realise that fine dining is a myth solitarily reserved in our British, wizardly ass brains.

'Because if you have the money to pay,' he continued, popping open the last button of his white button-down, 'no one should give a rat's arse about what you're wearing, or, in my case, not wearing.'

'Oh, my God, are you kidding me?' she said, glancing around them furtively and paling when she saw a camera being whipped out. 'All this just to prove me wrong?'

'No,' he replied unflinchingly. 'All this just to make you more comfortable. You think people are staring at you because of what you're wearing? Now, they won't.'

She whimpered as his shirt joined his coat.

'Now if you'll excuse me,' he politely said, reclaiming his seat even as a thundering silence descended upon the room, 'I have a meal to get back to.'

No one moved for a minute, as a very shirtless Draco slipped into his seat with a practiced charisma, wearing nothing but his undoubtedly expensive luxury trousers.

'You can't be serious,' she faintly said, staring at him in horror.

He shot her a pointed look that said he very much was.

Up was the fork lifted again, but before his fate could be determined, he was interrupted by the maître d', who had scurried over to their table at the sight of the whole fiasco.

'Sir, if I may please request you to put your clothes back on,' he said, an obvious hint of disgust in his tone.

Draco looked up at him, and he immediately shirked back. 'Is there a problem?' he asked, icily.

'Not a problem, per say,, Mr. Malfoy,' he spluttered, having recognised the very important person at fault. 'It's just that…some of our fellow patrons are uncomfortable at your markedly undressed state.'

'You can tell them that my guest was uncomfortable with the way they looked at her, then,' he shrugged, sipping at his wine, the muscles in his toned arm flexing involuntarily. 'And your staff could do with a lesson or two in etiquette, too.'

'Sir,' the waiter nodded, taking his leave.

Hermione did nothing but stare.

'What, Granger?'

'You're the most infuriating man I've ever met!' she cried, rubbing at her head. 'I should never have agreed to have dinner with you!'

'When, tonight, or every dinner we've had since the past two weeks?'

'That started as a work thing!'

'And quickly turned into a non-work thing,' he shrugged, and she said nothing.

'I can pin it back to that stupid night I accepted that drink from you, it's just made us much too comfortable around each other.'

'Can I eat my food in peace?' he asked, inspecting his fingernails.

She whacked him on the head with a napkin and he winced.

'And then you have the audacity to rub your money in the face of that waiter!'

'He's the manager, Granger, not the waiter, and don't you think this place has rubbed its money back on us at all?'

She gasped. 'You brought me here!'

'To have the fugu,' he spat out, huffing and leaning back against his chair. 'Which, might I add, I haven't yet had the opportunity to taste because of all your fuss!'

'Fine, go ahead and choke on your poisonous fish,' she spat out, cutting into her chicken viciously. 'See if I care.'

He rolled his eyes and took a bite, and she stared from beneath her lashes.

'Absolutely delicious, Granger, you're seriously missing –'

He could not continue, however, because he was undertaken by a serious bout of coughing, and she sprang up from her seat worriedly, flailing her arms about to attract the waiters' attention, while she thumped him on the back with all her force.

'For God's sake, I TOLD YOU NOT TO EAT THE BLOODY THING!' she screamed, as the waiters ran up to where they sat.

'Arrange for a portkey to St. Mungo's, right now!' she shrieked, as the servers started making arrangements in a hurry.

'I'm okay, I'm okay,' he whimpered, wincing at the might of her blows. 'I choked, Merlin, I just choked.'

'Victims asphyxiate and die, Draco! All this for some stupid fish!' she screamed. 'Where's the portkey!'

'I said I CHOKED,' he said, then again, a little louder, banging on the table for attention.

'What?'

'I choked because I was talking and chewing at the same time - gosh, if only my mother could see me now, she'd whack me - the fish isn't poisonous, it's quite delicious, rather, and OOF! That hurt, you bloody woman! Get your hands off of me-'

-X-X-X-

A long while later, during their sheepish and mortified walk back home, a very frazzled Hermione continued to berate him about his behaviour at the restaurant and also in general.

'Well, at least I don't fall asleep on the men I'm snogging,' he retorted.

'Right, and you know this because you snog men on a weekly basis,' she laughed, pushing her hands deeper into the pockets of her coat.

'You know what I mean,' he said. 'I have to say, it was pretty insulting.'

'And I have to say, for the millionth time, at the risk of inflating your pufferfish sized ego that it had nothing to do with you, I'm just a lightweight. And what's more horrifying is the realization that if we're drunk around each other, we'll resort to snogging!'

'And that's a bad thing?' he asked, thoughtfully, halting in his tracks.

'You think?' she replied with gusto, shaking her head. 'It's the worst idea ever!'

'A million girls would die to kiss me, you know,' he replied nonchalantly, walking again.

'After your little restaurant debacle, I seriously doubt that,' she grinned, running to catch up with him.

'You know nothing about how female desire works, then, Granger. By tomorrow, the tabloids will have me on the cover, and I'll be shirtless and in control, and,' he stopped, inching closer to her, 'isn't that a turn-on?'

She snorted, and pushed him away with a firm finger against his chest, a warning look in her eyes.

'If that's what passes for female desire nowadays, I'm good,' she chuckled, staring ahead. 'And I don't see a million girls lining up for a smooch, Malfoy.'

'Eh, you're deluding yourself, then, because deep down, you know none can resist the Malfoy charm.'

'I can,' she answered resolutely, and he shrugged.

'Well, your humble abode, ma'am,' he said, as they approached her house.

'I won't go out with you again, if you make today's happenings a habit,' she chided, walking up the three steps that lead to the main gate of her modest apartment building.

'You've never _gone out_ with me,' he winked from the bottom, and they matched in height, now.

'You know what I mean, you prat. Goodbye, now.'

'As always, a pleasure,' he said, taking her left hand in his and placing a soft kiss against her knuckles.

'Ha! What is this, the nineteenth century?'

'Chivalry never goes out of fashion,' he smirked, intertwining their fingers together.

'Okay, you can let go now,' she huffed, trying to pull her hand away in vain. 'Uh, Malfoy?'

He remained mute, just looked right at her and pulled her down the steps, so she was pressed flush against him.

'What do you think you're doing?' she breathed out, inhaling the deliciously musky scent that she'd come to identify as Draco Malfoy.

He let go of her hand, but before she could move, dexterous arms that knew what they were doing had encircled her waist, locking her in place.

She looked straight ahead, her breaths coming out in puffs now, because she was eye-level with the patch of skin that his shirt's unbuttoned bit exposed, and it wasn't something she'd really planned on being eye-level with, when she'd woken up that morning.

She had no choice but to rest her hands on his chest for support, and she didn't really like that her body provided her with no adrenaline-induced urge to push him away.

There was adrenaline, though. Oh, there was adrenaline coursing through her blood alright.

He brushed his nose against her hair and it tickled the side of her temples in the best toe-curling way possible, and her eyelashes actually _fluttered_ like that of those boppy, star-struck girls they always showed in movies.

She almost didn't realise when he pulled away, and it was the wind smacking her painfully to drive home the absence of his warmth that brought her to her senses.

She opened her eyes, and she knew that she'd been played.

'So, you can resist my charm, you were saying?' he smirked, pressing a light kiss to her cheek before walking away with his blasted coat swung over his shoulder.

'Goodnight, Granger!' he called, out, looking back with a smirk as he walked onward. 'Try not to think about me too much.'

She swore to avenge herself with a small smile on her face.

-X-X-X-

A/N - Wow, I never update so often, haha, something wrong with me, I suppose. I'm in a happy place right now, so I like where there is going, and hopefully, you guys will too! Nothing like some rom-com goodness to brighten up a dull day!

Anyhow, do tell me what you think about this little thing. I really haven't provided much detail, details can get tedious sometimes, and I plan for this thing to be a fun, upbeat, fast-moving, will-they-won't-they story, so anything you're confused about, or whatever, just leave it in the reviews, and I'll try to answer!

Leave a review! Much love. XOXO.


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